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With a quick swig, Alice downed her vodka. A drop escaped her lips and caught the side of her mouth. He watched as she swiped her tongue across her lips, that simple action could be passed off as innocent but when she looked back at him, her lips held an almost taunting smirk.

“There’s somewhere else you can go where no one can disturb you while you work.” She purred and pulled down the sunglasses she was wearing, just low enough for him to see her eyes-well the grey contacts that were in them. The inky look in his eyes was enough to tell Alice that he was interested, but there was an obvious confinement. As he was about to protest, she grabbed his arm, and pulled him from the stool, ignoring the sultry feeling of his skin on hers. She headed for the back of the club, where the real fun was.

Not only did Walsh own a fight club, he also owned a strip club. It was more like a safe haven for some of the underground's most ruthless men, while some of them watched fights and bet on them to blow off the steam of the day, others liked watching half naked women slide on poles, or they simply pay them to sleep with them. Not against their will of course.

This place held dozens of women, young, old, exotic, who would waltz in requesting his services. They danced for the men that visited, he got a cut of whatever they made. She understood the arrangement, but it was all too excessive for her, she wouldn’t even be in this part of this club if it wasn’t for the man she was currently dragging.

The room was barely lit by a somber red light, a bright white light was directed to the women on the stage who were swinging up and down a pole. They were getting shouts of appreciation by the horde of men beneath the stage.

She glanced at the man behind her, there was wonder in his eyes, as he ate everything up in just one look. She wondered if it was just for the intel or he was just genuinely curious. She mounted the stairs she knew led her to private glass rooms and ducked into an empty one with the man following. From here, she could see the fight ring and thanks to the two sided glass, no one could see her. The room held a similar light to the one outside and it held just one metal pole that rose to the ceiling and a tall red leather couch set. She pushed him down on the stool to sit but didn't say anything.

“When I saw you up there, I didn’t think you were one of these girls.” He was the first to break their silence.

I’m not. She wanted to say but the curiosity in his eyes told her not to.

“I go where I please.” She replied simply as she slowly slid her coat over her shoulder and threw it beside him on the couch. He watched her every movement. Her skin caught ablaze from the latent heat in his eyes.

“I’m not going to pay you to dance for me, or for anything else. So you really don’t have to do this.” His words threw her off balance for a bit, she did not expect him to shot down the idea of a dance, or sex.

“Then why did you follow me down here?” She chuckled when he didn’t say anything, she could see that he didn’t even know the answer to that. Her eyes closed as a familiar beat started to play, she slowly sauntered over to the pole and gripped it tightly and pressed her back against it as she faced him. He was sitting there, with nowhere to go. She had a gun, a knife and a brass knuckle but to hell with that.

Her body began to move around the pole before her mind told her to, she couldn’t understand why she had the urge to dance, there were other methods of getting to the truth but as she began swaying her hips, those thoughts flew to the back of her mind.

Something strange happened as she stood there dancing. She felt herself slipping into that persona, the pretense of being this, just a sexy woman letting go, felt great. She felt free, even if it was going to be just for five minutes.

She slowly slid down to a squat, her back faced him and her forehead was against the pole. She wasn't the thickest in bodyweight but she had enough flesh where it matters. So when she began rotating her bottom against the floor slowly, it giggled despite the restraints of what she wore.

He shifted in his spot slightly, the sudden rush of blood to his groin made his stance a little uncomfortable.

His eyes never left her body, even though she was just wearing leggings and a V-cut shirt. There was something about this woman that told him that she wasn’t a stripper and that intrigued him even more.

“Close your eyes.” She ordered, as she turned to face him and slid down from the platform. Her sunglasses were left by the pole but she didn't care.

"I really don't-" He began his protest but Alice was standing over him in the blink of an eye, erasing anything else he had to say from his memory.

"You came here to work." She whispered as she lowered her chest to his face. He now had a full view of her plump tan breast. "I can give you work."

His mouth hung open and his fists were tightly balled together. It was obvious he was trying to restrain himself.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked as he met her face instead of the perfect pair of breasts she had dangling in his face.

"What I want is for you to sit." His hands found her small waist, pulling her down to sit on the couch beside him. The action was so unexpected that she gasped. Luckily he didn't feel the weapon tucked in the back of her pants.

The muscles in his jaw clenched. "I don't want to f*ck." He then said with a tone of finality.

They always say what the eyes don't see, the heart couldn't leap from it. Because if he had any idea who she was, he'd know that she didn't want to have sex either and he wouldn't be this calm.

She snapped out of her temptress pretence quickly and slipped back into her dark rigid self. This stripper act was getting her nowhere. A sudden punk band started playing through the overhead speakers from the fight club in front of them. She turned her attention to the crowd on the other side of the club. People were pushing closer and closer to the ring.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood." He said, when she didn't reply he set his focus on the ring.

“Did you bet?” He asked after a while as he gestured to the boxers standing below the platform getting ready to fight.

“I don't have to, I already know who will win.” She raised her voice over the arising chatter.

He raised a brow, his curiosity went up a notch. “How?

Because I own Walsh Hanson and his players always win.

“It’s just a hunch.” She shrugged. “So Mr. I don't want to f*ck, what’s your name?” She asked as she fetched her coat from the couch, slipped it on and buttoned it to the top.

“Eric.” He never skipped a beat before replying. She smirked, if only that beautiful mouth didn’t just lie.

“Well Eric, I might have already figured you out, I just need to know one thing,” She slowly rose from her spot and took a step towards him, even though she was wearing heels, she only met his chin. He tilted his head down to her and waited for her next words.

“Are you CIA or FBI?” Before he could react she slammed her fist across his face, the stool he was on skated backwards and his back hit the iron ledge behind him. He quickly flew up from the seat, wide-eyed, holding his chest. Alice didn’t give him any time to recover, she swung her fist to his head again but he expertly dodged her and grabbed her by the elbow and threw her face down on the stool.

“Who are you?” His breath was ragged and he tried to hold her steady. He had never seen a woman fight like her, the throbbing in his chest told him she was capable of way more than that. Some of the men by the poles outside heard the commotion and started towards the room. When they got near, he saw the automatic weapons they had, ready to fire. He attempted to reach for something in his pocket.

“You came to the wrong club asshole.” She grunted out and swung her free elbow in the back of his head, he stumbled forward, his hands came loose. She took the opportunity to drag his head forward, she smashed it with her knee then pounded her fist into his back. Before she could deliver another blow he grabbed her hand, pulling her into wristlock. She quickly dragged her hands forward, pulling herself free and roundhoused him square in the face, this sent him to the ledge again.

“Leo can't come to save you.” She pressed, there was clear confusion in his eyes.

"Who the fuck is Leo?" He gritted out.

Before she could approach him again, an explosion went off below them. Suddenly, the entrance of the fight club exploded with cops, people began to scatter and the fighters in the ring tried to jump over the barbed wire fencing around it. The men that were approaching Alice retreated. But there were policemen guarding every entrance, none of them were getting out. The man approached her again, before he could get to her Alice darted from the room and he followed.

His pursuit was short lived when she jumped from the ledge and landed on her feet into the crowd of strippers and men that were running around the room. He swiped his hands over his lips as blood started dripping and watched as she disappeared in the crowd.